


Once Bitten

by sciencefictioness



Series: Thrice Shy [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camboy Genji, Camboy Jesse, Genji's A Fanboy, M/M, Musician Lúcio, Sugar Daddy Lúcio, brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: Lúcio skips through time zones so rapidly that Jesse feels tired just thinking about it.  He’s in Italy, then Russia, then Japan.  South America more frequently than anywhere else— he’s in Brazil a lot.  Genji thinks his business is based there, and that he spends his time flying around the world to manage it.  Meeting up with clients, or coworkers, or suppliers.  It’s hard to guess without knowing what he does for a living, specifically, but Lúcio skirts questions about his job and personal life like the plague, so Jesse and Genji don’t push.He tells them about the food he likes and the movies he watches and his favorite podcasts, and he talks about music for as long as they let him.  Genji likes to get him started, likes to hear what he has to say when he gets lost in a rant.  Overrated classics, underrated new talents, his favorite artists and pieces and sounds.  How privilege stands in the way of innovation.That music belongs to everyone, always.





	Once Bitten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coinin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coinin/gifts).



> Thanks to coinin for commissioning me, and supporting my endless thirst for these three. I hope you all enjoy!!

The sun is starting to set when Jesse wakes from his impromptu nap on the couch, light slanting through the blinds as he stretches until his back pops.  He sits up, listening to keys rattle in the door. Genji muttering in Japanese, followed by some muffled thumping sounds.

 

Then the door swings open and Genji stumbles inside with an armful of bags, mostly clothes from the looks of it, though Jesse’s eye catches on a couple bags in particular; one from a local sex shop, and another from the boutique where Genji likes to buy stockings sometimes.  Neither place is cheap. Jesse isn’t surprised to see he’s been to them both.

 

Turns out Genji still has expensive tastes when they can actually afford to cater to them, and Jesse is glad he’s finally getting a chance to spoil himself.

 

“Close that,” Genji says, juggling bags and flimsy paper sacks as he leaves the front door hanging open to cross the living room.  There’s a trace of annoyance in his voice— he’d asked Jesse to go shopping with him. Jesse usually indulged Genji, but he’d stayed home today nursing a hangover and Genji hates shopping alone.

 

Genji hates doing  _ anything  _ alone, really.

 

Now Jesse’s headache is long gone, all the lingering fatigue washed away with a shower and a meal and a few hours sleep.  It’s not morning, but his body doesn’t know the difference; he’s hard, and horny, and Genji’s too damn pretty even when he’s irritated with Jesse.

 

Jesse waits until Genji’s walking past and loops an arm around his waist, tugging him down into his lap without warning.  He squawks indignantly, flailing and dropping the bags he’s carrying, jeans and shoes and make-up spilling out onto the floor or rolling in between the couch cushions.  It takes a few seconds before he gives up trying to right himself, and when he finally settles he fists a hand in Jesse’s hair— partly to regain his balance, partly because Jesse deserves the insistent yank he gets.

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ Jesse.”  It’s hissed in complaint, but Genji’s already tilting his head to the side to make room for Jesse’s mouth.  Jesse kisses his shoulder, sliding his lips up Genji’s neck, hands firmly on Genji’s hips as he rocks into him.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Jesse promises, sucking a mark into Genji’s throat and grinding against his ass in slow circles.  He palms at Genji through his jeans with a hum. “Let me take care of you, first.” 

 

Jesse noses across the back of Genji’s neck and nuzzles at the side of his jaw until Genji tilts his head the other way for him, licking up another bruise just above his collar.  Genji’s breathing hard in a way that tells Jesse he’s trying not to make any noise, but he doesn’t move to stop him. Melts into him instead, fingers scratching instead of pulling now, gently encouraging the dark mark that will inevitably be visible after he’s done.  Not that there aren’t already a half dozen scattered here and there on Genji, as well as Jesse. 

 

Lúcio likes when they leave hickeys on each other, and they’re happy to oblige him.

 

They hadn’t been looking for a sugar daddy when they started fucking on camera every weekend for whoever felt inclined to pay them for it, but maybe that had been their first mistake.  They aren’t exactly cut out for camming— they’re both older than most of the camboys out there, not to mention muscled and scarred and smart-assed. Neither of them are good at placating fragile male egos or catering to the kind of assholes who tend to populate the chats on the site they use.  They didn’t made a lot of cash in the beginning, but a few hundred bucks a week was better than nothing, and even if they hadn’t been making anything they probably would have kept at it.

 

Genji likes attention, and Jesse likes to give it to him, any way he can.

 

It had been Genji’s idea, like most things they find themselves doing are, but Jesse doesn’t mind.  However much they both end up enjoying themselves, it definitely didn’t pay the bills at first. Jesse kept his day job, and they used their tips for frivolous bullshit they couldn’t afford otherwise.  New clothes, Genji’s pricey eyeliner, parts for Jesse’s project bike.

 

Buying a new microwave when Genji accidentally put a foil wrapped burrito in theirs and fried it, and not for the first time. 

 

Then Lúcio showed up, shy and eager all at once; easily flustered but capable of coming up with graphic self indulgent things he wants to watch them do together.  He’s respectful, and bizarrely romantic, and stupid rich; he decided he liked what he saw, and was willing to pay for it, and suddenly they don’t need to worry about checking price tags anymore.  

 

Lúcio puts a ridiculous amount of money into their bank account every week.  It was excessive enough those first few streaming sessions when he was in the chat with everyone else, throwing thousand dollar tips at them like it was nothing.

 

Then they switched to private shows, and realized he’d been  _ holding back.   _

 

He doesn’t bother tipping them during their chats anymore.  Lúcio just watches, and when they check their notifications there are several thousand dollars in tips without fail.  Sometimes more— Jesse has noticed that when Genji is particularly worn out afterwards there is usually extra cash for them, like Lúcio is paying for his exhaustion.

 

Like he’s apologizing, or taking care of Genji in the only way he can, and it makes Jesse fond where he’d otherwise just be grateful.

 

Very grateful.

 

One week of Lúcio's tipping is enough to pay rent, bills, and buy groceries for a month, with money left over to spare.  The rest just keeps stacking up in their bank, in spite of Genji’s shopping sprees and Jesse’s shining, perfect motorcycle.  Their new computer with a fancy new webcam, the leather couch in their living room, the too-soft king size mattress Genji picked out.

 

At this rate, they’ll be able to buy a place of their own soon instead of renting; Jesse’s done the math.

 

Now he doesn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to frame houses, or run wire, or lay block for ten hours straight in the miserable summer sun.  Genji doesn’t have to spend his spare time looking for different jobs, only to get frustrated with his boss or his coworkers and quit after a handful of days, and then feel guilty about it.  

 

All they have to do is what they’ve always done, except this time on camera for an audience of one.  They still hold their weekly streams on Saturday— Genji doesn’t want to risk alienating what few viewers they have in the event that Lúcio loses interest, and Jesse doesn’t blame him— but they also have another session, just for him.  Usually during the week, but the schedule varies wildly.

 

Lúcio skips through time zones so rapidly that Jesse feels tired just thinking about it.  He’s in Italy, then Russia, then Japan. South America more frequently than anywhere else— he’s in Brazil a lot.  Genji thinks his business is based there, and that he spends his time flying around the world to manage it. Meeting up with clients, or coworkers, or suppliers.  It’s hard to guess without knowing what he does for a living, specifically, but Lúcio skirts questions about his job and personal life like the plague, so Jesse and Genji don’t push.

 

He tells them about the food he likes and the movies he watches and his favorite podcasts, and he talks about music for as long as they let him.  Genji likes to get him started, likes to hear what he has to say when he gets lost in a rant. Overrated classics, underrated new talents, his favorite artists and pieces and sounds.  How privilege stands in the way of innovation.

 

That music belongs to everyone, always.

 

It was a bit of a joke the first time Genji did it deliberately— put on some music by the famous Lúcio to tease their own.  Genji listens to a lot of dance music anyway, and his playlists are full of Lúcio's songs. Jesse has fucked Genji on stream or ridden him with one of them playing in the background more times than he can count, but no one has ever called attention to it.

 

_ Lúcio, for our Lúcio,  _ Genji said one day, grinning at the camera as the opening beats of the track pulsed through their speakers.  Lúcio was quiet for a while, though, and Genji’s smile faltered a little. 

 

_ Not a fan then,  _ Jesse asked, and then Lúcio tapped out a response.

 

_ Nah, I like it.  It’s not the best but it’s good. _

 

_ I hear it a lot. _

 

Jesse smiled as Genji went on a tangent in defense of his favorite musician, and made it a point to put more of his songs on their streaming playlist in protest, not that Lúcio seemed to notice.

 

Now they’re supposed to be doing their weekly show for him in a couple of hours, and Genji is far from ready.  He still needs to eat, and shower, and decide what he wants to wear. Do his eyeliner, maybe, or repaint his nails.  He might sit down to stream naked and fresh from the shower, or he might be wearing something stupidly hot with his nails in three different colors and his eyes winged dark and thick, depending on his mood.

 

Either way there’s definitely not time for this— pawing at Genji through his jeans with their front door hanging open, sucking another bright red mark into the curve of his shoulder.  Genji sighs and stands up, dodging Jesse’s grasping hands with practiced ease. Jesse gives up without a fight; he didn’t really expect to get far, but it’s always fun to wind Genji up before a show.

 

“There’s no time.  I’m hungry, and I need to clean up.”  Genji crosses the living room again to shut the door, shooting Jesse a glare as he walks past him towards the hallway.

 

“Dinner’s in the oven.  Want me to leave any of this out?”  

 

Jesse picks up the bags Genji dropped, tucking everything back where it belongs, fishing bath bombs and nail polish out of the crevices in the couch where they’ve fallen.  Genji is already in the kitchen, rifling through the fridge.

 

“Yeah I bought a- a thing, from that place, for the stream.  Don’t put it up.”

 

Jesse snorts and peeks into the bag from the sex shop to find a new bottle of lubricant and a shimmering green silicone dildo shaped like something decidedly inhuman.  He leaves it on the coffee table and carries everything else to their room, hanging up all of Genji’s new clothes where they belong, slipping his bag of cosmetics into a drawer in the bathroom.  

 

After Genji is done eating Jesse tries to follow him into the shower, but Genji levels him with a glare, and he surrenders without a fuss.  Jesse isn’t surprised— Genji never wants to get off so close to a stream— but it’s fun to tease him anyway.

 

He falls back down on the couch and watches half an episode of a series he’s behind on before getting distracted by his phone, then gives up and heads into the kitchen to take care of the dishes from dinner.  By the time the dishwasher is running and the counters are clean Genji is sitting in his underwear on their freshly made bed, slicing open the packaging of his new dildo with his tanto, laptop already set up on the desk.

 

“Anything you need me to do?”  

 

Jesse is definitely not in charge when it comes to deciding what they’re doing for a stream, especially for Lúcio's private shows.  Genji looks him over quickly, then tosses the dildo at him, sans packaging. He catches it easily, running his thumb over the ridged texture running down the side, feeling the girth of it.  Heavy in his hand, wide and imposing.

 

Jesse supposes it’s meant to be big, except he’s bigger, so it’s hard for him to tell.

 

“Rinse that, and lose those jeans.”

 

Jesse obliges him, washing and drying the toy and tossing it on the bed.  He kicks off his pants before sitting down in their desk chair and opening up the cam site.  There’s an alert flashing in the corner, notifying them that an appointment is logged on their calendar for an upcoming show soon.  Jesse clicks it and sets the stream up— as soon as Lúcio arrives in the chat they can activate the video feed and get started.

 

Eventually Genji finishes gnawing the seal off of the lube he bought and arranges the pillows at the head of the bed, but Lúcio still hasn’t shown.  Genji sits in Jesse’s lap, straddling his thighs and laying against his chest. They share increasingly frequent glances as they wait, scrolling through bullshit on their phones.  

 

Lúcio is late, sometimes, or even forced to reschedule, but usually he gives them plenty of notice.  For him to be taking so long without sending them a message on the site is strange. Ten minutes pass, then fifteen, then twenty.

 

It’s well over half an hour past their scheduled starting time when Lúcio finally pops up in the chat, typing before they get a chance to react.

 

dropthebeat: sorry I’m late, work thing ran long on me

 

Rather than type back an answer Jesse sits up and starts the stream with a click, only to frown when the screen flashes in an unfamiliar way.  Usually their video feed takes up most of the chat window, but it shrinks down into a small square in the bottom right corner this time, the main bulk of their screen stuttering black before a different camera takes over.  

 

Lúcio's camera; he’s activated his webcam, when he’s never so much as gotten on voice chat with them before now.  Jesse and Genji both stare, wide eyed with surprise as they take in the sight. Lúcio's there, glancing at his computer with furrowed brows, looking a bit worse for wear.

 

He doesn’t seem to notice what he’s done right away, leaned back against a haphazard pile of pillows with his dreadlocks splayed over them messily.  He’s got stubble along his jaw— it seems like it’s been at least a couple of days since he’s shaved, and that’s being generous. There are bags under his eyes, and several empty energy drinks laying on their sides on the nightstand in the background.   Even rough around the edges he’s still incredibly attractive. Beautiful face, soft eyes; him being shirtless doesn’t hurt, either. He muscled and thick but with a waistline that’s downright unfair. 

 

One that Jesse has seen before, countless times, most of them on the screen of Genji’s phone.  It takes Jesse a few moments but everything clicks, and then it’s crystal clear why Lúcio had never wanted to talk with them on voice chat, or let them see his face.

 

They’d thought he was sensitive about his appearance.  An accent maybe, or some bigwig CEO buried deep in the closet and seeking privacy.  They weren’t entirely wrong.

 

Lúcio Correia dos Santos isn’t in the closet, but he would definitely want all the privacy he could manage, especially when he’s quietly paying camboys absurd amounts of money every month to get each other off.  After all the years Jesse has spent watching Genji thirst after the man there’s no mistaking him for anyone else, even out of context this way. A lot of things fall into place all at once— the fixation on music, the strange schedule, the lack of concern over just how much money he’s paying them.  

 

Genji has stopped breathing next to him.  

 

“Baby.”  Jesse nudges him, and he inhales sharply, eyes wide.

 

“Oh my  _ god.”   _ Genji lifts both hands and covers his mouth, mumbling into his fingers in a helpless voice.  “Oh fuck.” 

 

It’s right then that Lúcio realizes he’s turned on his camera— by accident, it seems— and his face does something incredibly complicated.  Not horror, exactly, but definitely shock. He sits up in bed in a rush, grabbing at his chest like he’s trying to straighten his clothes, except he isn’t wearing anything but briefs.  Genji lets out a noise that’s part whine, part something else entirely, dropping one hand from his face to slap repeatedly at Jesse’s chest. 

 

“Jesse!  Jesse, holy  _ shit!” _

 

“Breathe, babydoll,” he says, and Genji sucks in another big breath, and lets it out.  Jesse rubs one hand in circles between Genji’s shoulder blades, watching Lúcio's expression go through the five stages of grief in approximately as many seconds.  

 

Then he lets out an awkward laugh, and plasters an equally uncomfortable smile on his face.

 

“Uhhh, hey guys!  S… surprise?” Lúcio says, all forced cheer and thinly veiled anxiety.  “Forgot to disable my camera after talking with my agent, I guess. Wow, I’m sorry.”  

 

Jesse isn’t sure why he’s apologizing, other than a knee-jerk reaction to fucking up.  Lúcio glances down, laying his palms over his chest like it might help somehow, patting at his stomach.  Then he flinches and quickly pulls a pillow down to hide the half empty bottle of lubricant and box of tissues sitting beside him.  

 

Jesse hadn’t even noticed them until now, when Lúcio drew his attention there.  Lúcio groans and covers his face with both palms, leaning forward and curling into himself.  Genji is still hiding partly behind his hands, making a whimpery noise in the back of his throat.  Both of them are on the verge of completely losing it— Lúcio just accidentally revealed himself to a couple of sex workers he’s only been talking to for ten months or so, and Genji has come face to face with his favorite musician out of nowhere, only to realize he’s been sucking dick on camera for him all this time.  Jesse lays a palm over the back of Genji’s neck and squeezes.

 

Lúcio is too far away to pull into a hug, but Jesse wishes he could all the same.

 

“Hey there, stranger,” Jesse says to break the silence, massaging his fingers into Genji’s neck, trying to steady him some.  “Nice to lay eyes on you, even if it wasn’t exactly intentional. You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

 

Genji is always his sweetheart, but he seems to know Jesse isn’t talking to him right now.  Lúcio sits back up and peers at Jesse through his fingers before dragging them slowly down his face.  That smile is still there, but it’s a little strained; he kind of looks like wants to throw up. 

 

“Yeah, I’m- I don’t know, actually.  This wasn’t part of the plan.” There’s another awkward laugh, and he rubs his hand down his face again. 

 

Jesse’s about to offer whatever comfort he can muster— tell Lúcio it’s alright, he can shut off the video if he wants, they can pretend this never happened— when Genji’s brain comes back online.

 

“Oh my god.   _ Lúcio!   _ I thought you were some closeted businessman, not—” Genji flails a hand at the screen, fingers splayed, “not  _ this,  _ shit.  You— you let me go on and on about your music, and it was YOU!  The whole time! We— oh my god, we’ve fucked to your songs on at least a dozen different streams!”  Lúcio's smile shifts into something a little more genuine then. 

 

“Didn’t exactly want to just out myself, here.  Plus it’s flattering, and you’re very cute when you get excited about something.”

 

Genji flushes hot like, flustered like Jesse hasn’t seen him in ages, lost for words as he covers his face again.

 

_ “Jesse,”  _ he mumbles, low enough that Lúcio probably can’t hear.  Jesse pets through his hair, smiling softly.

 

“You already knew that he thought you were cute, dollface.  He’s told you that before, and then some.”

 

Lúcio isn’t shy about complimenting them anymore, now that he’s gotten comfortable chatting during their streams.  He’s told Genji that he’s gorgeous, that he has a nice smile, that he has pretty eyes. Sexy hands, beautiful thighs,  _ I love your accent, talk to me some more. _

 

Now Genji seems to be replaying all that praise in his head with the knowledge of who it had really come from, face bright hot and heartbeat pounding rapidly under Jesse’s fingers.  He’s dropped his work persona entirely, which is fucking adorable. It took a long time for Jesse to convince Genji that he didn’t have to put on a show for him when they initially got together— that he didn’t have to always be flirtatious, and sultry, and suggestive.

 

Some of it was just Genji’s personality, but some of it was a facade he’d always fallen back on to protect himself, and Jesse was happy to see the less genuine parts of it go.

 

Happy that Genji finally realized Jesse wanted him as he was, however messy or imperfect that might be; for better or for worse and all that jazz.  They aren’t married, technically, but they don’t need rings on their fingers to know this is it for them. 

 

For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

 

Jesse’s never been bothered by Genji playing to the audience when they stream, but watching it fall away to leave him shy and overwhelmed is gratifying, even if the situation is less than ideal.  

 

Genji sits back up and shakes his hands out, letting out a brief yell.

 

“Ahhhh, fuck, okay, this is… a lot.”  Genji laughs, high and manic and looking anywhere but at the camera.  “I’m so fucking nervous.  _ Lúcio!   _ I’m being weird, I’m sorry.  I don’t think I can get it up right now, my stomach is in knots.”

 

Lúcio throws his head back and laughs, once.  Even if it’s not totally relaxed it’s miles away from the nervous giggle they’d heard earlier.  He still looks like he wants to bolt; Jesse doesn’t blame him. 

 

He’s got a lot more to lose than they do, here, and it’s no surprise he’s freaking out.

 

“Hey, no, don’t apologize.  This is my bad. I hate to bail on you guys, but man, I am really not in the right headspace for this right now.  I need a minute to process. More than a minute, shit.” Lúcio lays a palm over one side of his face, shaking his head.

 

Jesse can feel Genji freeze up in his arms, and he squeezes the curve of his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the base of Genji’s neck.

 

“More than a minute, huh?  Like maybe a week? We can call it a night, pick up next… Monday, wasn’t it?  Around five our time?”

 

The relief on Lúcio's face is palpable, and he’s nodding before Jesse is done talking.

 

“Yeah!  Yeah that sounds good.  I need… yeah. I’ll still pay you guys for today!”  The last bit comes out a little loud, like it’s only just occurred to him that they might be worried about their money.  Jesse shakes his head.

 

“Naw, hey, we ain’t stressing that.  You been treatin’ us real nice, you ain’t gotta pay us when we ain’t done nothin’.”

 

Lúcio shrugs, scratching at his head.

 

“Still gonna.  It’ll make me feel better about you guys getting things ready for me and waiting when I ran late, only for me to fuck up and then ditch.”

 

Jesse shrugs back at him, squeezing Genji’s shoulder a little harder where he’s shrinking into himself.

 

“Suit yourself, sweetheart.  We won’t complain.”

 

Lúcio nods, reaching for his keyboard like he’s itching to disconnect when Genji speaks up, voice soft but insistent.

 

“We will see you next week, right?”

 

Jesse hates how vulnerable he sounds.  It takes him back through the years to when Genji was finally letting him in, telling him secrets.

 

Back when every time Jesse left, Genji expected it to be the last.  

 

Lúcio looks uncertain, pushing some of his hair out of his face and releasing a drawn out breath.  He nods, but feels more like acknowledgement than agreement.

 

“I should be able to, yeah.  If nothing comes up.”

 

If nothing comes up.

 

It isn’t the answer Genji wants, but he nods back anyway, leaning harder into Jesse.

 

“Alright.  Goodnight, Lúcio.”

 

“Night, sweetheart,” Jesse adds, running his palm up and down Genji’s bicep, rocking him back and forth under the pressure.

 

“Night, guys,” Lúcio says, staring at the two of them with his brows furrowed for a few agonizingly long seconds before cutting the feed on his end and vanishing.

 

It’s another few seconds, and then Genji tucks himself into Jesse’s chest, and hides his face.

 

_ “Jesse.” _

 

Jesse puts his arms around him, and squeezes hard enough that it might hurt someone else.

 

But this is Genji, and he’s not so easily breakable.

 

At least not on the outside.

 

“Shhhh, hey, it’s okay.”

 

He makes a wounded, animal sort of noise against Jesse’s skin, and sniffs loudly.

 

“We’re never gonna hear from him again, are we?”

 

Jesse wants to assure him otherwise,  _ of course we will baby,  _ but he doesn’t really know if it’s true.  He isn’t ashamed of what they do together, but he understands it’s a scandal waiting to happen, especially for someone as high profile as Lúcio.  He hums, and buries his face in Genji’s hair.

 

“I dunno, baby.  We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

Genji breathes in deep, and slow, and lets it all out in a rush with a muted yell.

 

“Aaaaaa, I just met Lúcio.   _ Lúcio!   _ And I can’t even be excited about it because now he’s gone and we’re never gonna talk to him again!”

 

Genji doesn’t mention that things will be a lot harder without the money Lúcio has been throwing their way, even if it will take a while for their savings to run out.  He doesn’t have to; Jesse’s already mentally trying to decide which contractors or crews he wouldn’t mind applying at again. Most anywhere he’s worked before will take him back, but some are more ideal than others.  

 

Framing houses is often seasonal, and not as steady as he’d like.  Roofing is goddamn hot, but they’re always hiring. Laying block takes long hours, and it’s heavy work, but they don’t have downtime.  Electrical work is boring as fuck, but they can keep at it in the rain, so long as there’s a roof up at their job site. Nothing is worse than waking up to a thunderstorm, and wondering if the money in the bank will last until the sun comes out again.

 

Jesse shakes it all away.

 

He can worry about that later.

 

“We might.  Let’s just take it easy this week, and see what happens next Monday, alright?”

 

Genji huffs into his chest, arms pulled into himself, fists tucked under his chin.

 

“Feels like this is my fault even though I didn’t do anything.”

 

Genji always feels like everything is his fault.  Always has, even if he hides it well. Even if he shrugs it off, and pretends like he can do no wrong, and everything is going exactly like he planned.  Abuse will do that to someone— make everything into a weight they have to carry, even if it’s not theirs to bear.

 

Jesse knows that better than most, but maybe not better than Genji.

 

“You know it ain’t.  Ain’t his fault either, really.  Just somethin’ that happened, and now we gotta deal with it.  You wanna let me get this stuff put up, go watch tv for a while or something?”  It’s definitely not the time to try out Genji’s new toy, but something mindless on Netflix might be a decent distraction.  Genji shakes his head. Burrows deeper into Jesse’s chest, and Jesse holds him tight, and kisses his hair. “Okay. Alright.”

 

They stay that way a long time, until Jesse thinks Genji has fallen asleep, except he hasn’t.  He goes to take another shower, hot enough that Jesse can see steam pouring out the crack in the bathroom door as he puts things away and folds down the blankets for later.

 

Genji falls asleep on the couch with his head in Jesse’s lap sometime past two in the morning, the television droning in the background, throwing stuttering shadows on the walls.  

 

Jesse turns it off, and carries him to bed.

 

-

 

The week drags on much more slowly than Jesse expects, which is saying something.

 

Genji hasn’t been this restless in years.  The last time Jesse remembers seeing him so unsettled was right before he decided he had to go back to Hanamura one last time, and refused to let Jesse go with him.  He’d gone, and come back, and things hadn’t been better, exactly, but they hadn’t been worse.

 

Now Jesse doesn’t know which way things are gonna go, but he’s already trying to get ahead of the worst case scenario.  If Lúcio drops them without another word and never contacts them again there’s not a whole lot Jesse can do to soften the blow for Genji other than be there for him, but he can do damage control.  

 

Jesse buys the ingredients for all Genji’s favorite foods, and hides some boxes of the chocolates he likes in one of their kitchen cabinets.  There’s a couple of bottles of expensive liquor up there, too— drinking won’t solve their problems, but a solid night of nice whiskey and shochu at home together won’t hurt, either.  He sneaks off while Genji is visiting Hanzo and buys him a few presents; it’s impossible to hide gifts from Genji when he knows they’re there, but easy if he’s not expecting it. The bottom drawer of their dresser, the back corner of the closet, on a high shelf in the bathroom cabinet.

 

It’s still gonna hurt if things go bad, but at least Jesse can be there with comfort food and a stiff drink and a few days of surprises to coax some smiles out of Genji while he’s wallowing.

 

Genji does a good job of pretending he’s not dwelling on Lúcio for the first few days after their botched stream, but by Thursday he’s dropped all pretenses of being fine and is full on spiraling.  Lúcio doesn’t have  _ sad  _ songs, but he does have slow ones, and Genji listens to them on repeat and stares at the walls and picks at his food like eating is a chore. 

 

Jesse spends a few minutes on Friday trying to remember the last time Genji showered— Sunday?  Monday? He really isn’t sure, but there’s no point in bringing it up. Jesse doesn’t mind, and he’s certain he’s been worse off before.  Their regularly scheduled stream time comes and goes; neither of them brings it up, and Jesse pretends not to notice they missed it.

 

Genji stays in bed all day on Saturday, which wouldn’t worry Jesse too much, except he declines a blowjob for the third time this week and that’s definitely cause for concern.  Sunday he seems to have traded a loss of appetite for stress eating, and puts down an intimidating stack of pancakes only to take what’s left of Jesse’s breakfast and inhale that as well.  Genji runs through half the gallon of ice cream in their freezer, and what’s left of a cheesecake Jesse bought the week before, making eye contact like he’s daring Jesse to say something.

 

Jesse doesn’t.  

 

They’ve talked about it almost every day since it happened, but mostly to lament the site’s messaging system.  Lúcio's account is set to private; they can’t message him unless he’s online and in their chat. Being able to reassure him that they aren’t going to out him to the press or try and extort him would probably go a long way towards making them feel better, but there’s no way to let him know, and even if they could it might not make a difference.  They could make promises, but it doesn’t mean Lúcio will believe them. Genji sulks, and Jesse worries, and tries not to let it show.

 

Monday, things are entirely different.

 

Monday, Genji is  _ vibrating  _ with energy, bouncing around their place and unable to settle.  He  _ cleans,  _ which is indicative enough of his mood that Jesse feels anxious just watching him, but he doesn’t interfere.  He goes for a run and comes back an hour later dripping sweat and breathless. He does laundry, and empties the leftovers out of their fridge.   

 

He breaks down and cleans the old pair of shotguns in the back of their closet with a thoroughness and attention to detail that is honestly hotter than it should be, all things considered.  Jesse stares even though he doesn’t mean to; licks over his teeth, entranced by the movements.

 

When he’s done with those Genji spends a solid forty-five minutes sharpening his wakizashi— hands moving deftly, eyes keen— before Jesse eases it carefully out of his hands, picks him up, and carries him to bed.  He sucks fresh marks into his throat and the insides of his thighs and swallows around Genji until he’s shaking and coming and calling Jesse’s name. He can’t have expected anything else from Jesse after that display.

 

Genji’s hands on a weapon are downright obscene, and there’s only so much Jesse can take.

 

It’s enough of a distraction to relax Genji until four o’clock rolls around.  An alarm buzzes on Genji’s phone, as if he might somehow forget Lúcio's stream was coming up.  

 

As if he hasn’t been waiting all week.  He gets ready with a jitteriness that makes Jesse want to squeeze his shoulders and tell him to calm down and  _ breathe.   _ It won’t help, so Jesse doesn’t.

 

They’re fifteen minutes early when Genji logs into the site and gets the stream going.  Genji doesn’t get out the toy from last week, or the lubricant, or anything else they might need if Lúcio actually shows.  It would be depressing to put it away a second time, Jesse supposes, but he doesn’t comment. Just pulls Genji into his lap, and plays with his hair as Genji bounces his leg endlessly.  After a while Genji sighs.

 

“Aren’t you  _ nervous?”   _ Genji asks with an edge of frustration in his voice.  “How are you so fucking calm?” Jesse pauses, and considers the question.

 

He’s been so focused on Genji— how upset he’s been, how upset he might be if things go badly—  that he hasn’t really thought about it. 

 

“Been worried about you more’n anything else.  Haven’t really had a chance to get nervous.”

 

Genji groans, and sits up in his lap.

 

“If he doesn’t show up anymore we’ll be stuck finding jobs again.  We won’t be able to buy our own place, not for a while. Not to mention, it’s Lúcio!  Fucking...  _ Lúcio!”   _ Genji emphasizes his name the second time, flapping his hand towards the laptop.  Jesse shrugs.

 

“I know, baby.  But we did alright before he came along, and we’d do alright again.  Plus we’re better off, we got a lot saved up now. Mostly I just worry about you getting all sad anytime you listen to his music after this, if he ends up bein’ a no-show.  I know how much you like him.”

 

Genji scowls and opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by a ping from the computer.  They both look in unison, and Jesse watches the surprise bloom across Genji’s face, brows high and mouth open.  

 

Lúcio is in the chat, silent and waiting.

 

“Well, would ya look at that.”

 

“Oh, fuck,” Genji says, covering his mouth with one hand, reaching to activate their camera with the other.  “Oh  _ shit.”   _

 

Jesse can’t help but grin as the feed flickers to life, the two of them dominating the window as Genji hesitates for a handful of seconds, and then clicks the call button.  There is the trill of the call going through— once, twice. Genji’s holding his breath.

 

Then Lúcio is there on their screen, scratching at his head with a shy smile.  Dressed this time— freshly shaved and well rested and sitting up straight like he’s at some kind of interview.  He bites his bottom lip, eyes roaming as though he needs to work up the courage to look at them again. Lúcio breathes out a sigh, and glances at the screen.

 

“Hello hello,” he says.  All the tension in Genji eases.

 

“Oh, god.  Man. Lúcio, hi.”

 

It’s far from eloquent; Jesse grins wider.

 

“Smooth, baby.  Real smooth.” Genji glares at him, cheeks pink and eyes shining.  Jesse ignores him and looks at Lúcio instead. “Nice to see you again, stranger.  Didn’t know if you’d show.” 

 

Lúcio tilts his head, and grimaces.

 

“Didn’t know if I would either, at first.”  It’s honesty he doesn’t owe them, but Jesse’s glad to hear it.  Honest is good. Honest is what they need, if they’re going to move forward from here.  “Had to figure some things out. Seems I’m a little attached.”

 

“So’s he,” Jesse replies, inclining his head towards Genji with a smirk.  Genji makes an indignant noise, but Lúcio just laughs.

 

“Glad to hear it.  Be a shame if it was just me.”

 

It’s not a laugh Jesse has ever heard in an interview, or a recording, or a stream.  It’s softer, quieter. 

 

Intimate.  Just for them.

 

Genji is staring at the screen, starry-eyed, like the sound of Lúcio's laughter is something he isn’t equipped to handle.

 

“Well then, gorgeous.  My name is Jesse McCree.  This here is Genji Shimada.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

Lúcio laughs again, more of an exhale than a sound.

 

“Lúcio Correia dos Santos, and the pleasure’s all mine.”

 

Looking at Genji’s face, Jesse doubts that very much.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tell me nice things or come yell at me on [twitter.](https://twitter.com/scifictioness?lang=en)


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